


In the light of the Moon

by ForestFox



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Lies, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:32:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFox/pseuds/ForestFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Guardians are born and can die before they can even turn a year old, the race is always on to claim each newborn to a team. </p><p>Aster has lost too many Guardians to the rules. So when he stumbles on the newest one, he takes the signs of his unusual birth as reason to break the stalemate between order and chaos. Now if he can keep Jack secret before his time is up, surely nothing can go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At the edge of winter, The timer starts.

Aster stared in awe. He couldn’t believe it. After more than eighty years, it was finally happening again! The tides could be turned in the endless battle once again. Right there was the start of it tucked into a dying tree. Just a watermelon sized beacon of light peeking out from the hollow knot. He crossed the snow, ignoring the pain in the pads of his feet. Winter had barely taken hold here, which made the discovery even more startling.

Guardians were never born on the edge of winter. Seeds of them could never survive in the cold, and yet this one was. Perhaps it would die? Whispers from the spirits had promised a long hard winter here in the near barren north. The humans rarely ventured this far, and the forests were home to wild animals only. It made his discovery all the more precious.

“Hello there little one,” He whispered stopping before the trunk. He didn’t dare touch the glowing sphere nestled in the tree. Instead he ran his paws down the bark of the tree, terrified for the unborn thing inside it. “I should tell the others…” He inched a claw as close to the knot as he dared.

The others could help him guard the area. But in guarding it they would give away the secret here. This little things best chance was that he kept his silence. He could promise the woodland creatures fruits and an easy winter if they could keep guard with eyes alone. That would be the safest way to make sure no one else found this unborn guardian. And that way, if trouble did arise, he could be there to stop it.

“No… I’m sorry little one… I’m going to take a risk on you.” He muttered, thinking of Taylor. That precious golden boy had burned up in his arms. His black rimmed red eyes full of tears just as the day he had found him. He left this world the way he had entered it- in a blaze of fire, gone in an instant.

This little seed would take a while yet to grow. It wouldn’t level an entire forest to come into being like Taylor had. But what a rush of magic it had been when he had died, he had done his part in his way. But Aster wanted better this time around. “Fates be kind to you seedling. I’ll do all that I can so that you but live.”

It took all his effort to turn and leave, one slow heavy footstep at a time as he carried himself away from the tree. Away from the little seedling that might very well die before the winter was out if things did not go well. But he supposed perhaps fate would be kinder to the seedling to kill it now before it could think and feel.

-

Aster returned with Spring on his heel. Patches of ice lingered around the tree that was monstrous now. It was black and cracked with death but still alive somehow having grown around the seed. Its branches and dried up vines of ivy had snaked around the shell like armor. Smiling he looked between the branches, seeing an indistinct form through the filmy shell. Two icy glowing spheres proved that he had managed to find the face of the guardian to be.

He followed the faint outline of the body, admiring the creation of concentrated magic. The guardian was ugly now certainly, a mass of white slime barely holding together in its magic sludge. But it was a start, and impressive to say the least in the dead of winter that by sheer force alone its seed had begun to split the tree. The thing would still be small in comparison to him, but that it had survived so long? Surely it would be a strong guardian.

He dared a touch this time, reaching his paws out to caress the shell between two thick branches. “You’re lucky little one.” He told the seed, running his hands over the shell. Sighing as the pure magic threatened to singe his hand off, but allowed the touch regardless. “You are secret, and I intend to keep it that way. I have to leave you again, I can’t risk staying here long, but I will come back. And I hope that you will forgive me in time for the secrets I will keep from you.”

The unborn thing inside made no motion of acknowledgement. Its eyes glowed steadily, but body still. He wasn’t even sure the thing was still alive, it happened sometimes, a guardian dying in its womb of creation. No one quite understood how the Man in the Moon made the guardians. Why each one was different and why some never were born or died so suddenly like the water girl that had been coaxed out of the lake.

He thought of Taylor again as he turned away. The most destructive birth to date, at least it seemed only this tree was the cost of the guardian inside. This forest was waking from its winter sleep seemingly unfazed by the magical being tucked inside it. He made sure to leave the forest down a different path so as not to be obvious. It would do no good to be noticed visiting the same place in under a decade.

How long before he returned again? He wasn’t sure how long was safe, the risk already so high. But he had to be there for the guardian. When had the thing begun, and when would it be ready? He couldn’t let this one fall into Pitch’s chaotic hands. And he’d keep his promise to Taylor.

-

Eying the mark he could barely recall he turned into the small clearing where the dying tree was hidden. He frowned at the sight of the split tree, the shattered shell of the seed lying in the middle of it. His first thought screamed that a thunderstorm had had the misfortune of striking the wrong tree and that the guardian was dead. It drove him to dive forward on all fours to get to the tree as fast as possible.

The grass was dead circling the tree. Brown and wilted, which he thought odd, thunder should have seared the area. Pressing his paws to the shell he felt no sting of magic, which could only mean one thing.

“Hello.” His ears shot towards the voice even before he could look up. Off to the left beyond the trunk He stood up, his eyes finally catching sight of the guardian. A boy like Taylor had been, hiding in the fallen branches. Pale white hands gripping the branches, an equally pale face peering at him with visible shyness.

“Hello there… what’s your name?” He asked, a simple check to be sure that the being before him was a guardian.

“Jack... Jack Frost…” Aster slowly crept over the broken shell, crawling onto the split trunk of the tree.

“Hello Jack,” He answered back, careful not to break eye contact with those vivid icy eyes. “My name is Eon Aster Bunnymund.” Not all of that was his given name but he said the important part. His name in a true fashion just as Jack had without knowing it.

He watched the boy’s eyes flutter as he swayed back. No doubt he didn’t understand what he was feeling. Aster himself had long gotten use to the feeling of magic. He had to admit the pleasant chill Jack uttering his name had given him had been a refreshing change.

What he hadn’t expected was the way that pale hands let go and the boy fell back. “No no no.” He snarled, jumping the space between them, easily contorting his body to dart between branches. Kicking out his arms and legs he landed over the boy looking down at him.

He was still, his eyes closed. Frantically Aster felt out with his magics of life. The boy still had it, but it was faint. It wasn’t fair! He had found a guardian without the race being on to claim or convince it! This boy couldn’t die now, not when he had a promise to keep! Looking down at the boy’s nude form he realized what was happening.

It wasn’t healthy the way he could see the boy’s ribs and the way his flat stomach was just a bit sunken in. The poor thing was starving to death. Out here in the forest, the boy didn’t have the skills to feed himself. He ran a paw over his sleeping face. “Hang in there Jack. I’ll get ya something to eat. Just… don’t welcome death yet boy. I’ll keep ya safe.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment looking around. He couldn’t stay long. Perhaps it was best to move the boy now. Find him a safer hidden place, could the frail thing hang on while he moved him? He had no idea, but the risks to keep him safe here were too much. They had already traded magic greetings and Pitch was always on the lookout for that.

His path decided he scooped the boy’s small body into his arms and wove magic as discreetly as he could, opening a hole barely big enough for them to go through. As subtle as he could make it in hopes he couldn’t be tracked. Down into the darkness they went, all the while he was whispering prayers to the fates. He needed luck on his side! He had a promise to keep.

 


	2. An itch of Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has a feeling that things need to be done. If only he could remember what it was he has forgotten.

Jack woke up with a smile. It never failed to make him happy to see Aster’s little burrow when he woke. It beat the time he had been alone in the forest. Nothing to his name, not even a stitch of clothing. Something Aster had rectified and Jack couldn’t help but be endeared to him more for it.  

He saw no sign of the pooka now as he rubbed his sweater. Oh the warmth he could feel despite constantly radiating cold made him happy! Put a smile on his face as he admired that wherever Aster had gone he had been sure to leave him food! He could actually get up under his own power again. Something he had only been able to manage after he had woken up the first time. Before the starvation had crippled him.

Throwing back the blankets he kicked his legs out, turning on the couch he had taken refuge on. The well-worn dirt floors and threadbare rugs greeted his feet. Aster warned him if he didn’t opt for shoes soon his feet would get too hard. But that was one piece of clothing he just couldn’t bear to wear.

“Aster?” He called out experimentally. Maybe the pooka was just tucked away into one of the many rooms in the large underground home. He got no response which was perfectly fine by him. He could enjoy what smelled like porridge in peace. Crossing the space to the table where his bowl had been left he admired the small sign he was cared for.

The bowl was plain, white, basic clay thing. Probably hand crafted, how he could guess that he couldn’t remember. But he dismissed it as part of his amnesia, something Aster had taken great pains to explain to him. He picked up the spoon, curious about how long it would take. Ignoring the chair to take one good spoonful first, he looked around again.

The burrow was home by sheer happenstance. Whatever had gotten him lost and confused in the forest would come back to him some day. Aster assured him as much. But until then he had to accept the strange home, with no pictures on the walls, and no signs of life but Aster and Jack, was home. If he didn't, surely he’d go mad from the longing.

Content with the taste of the porridge he sat down to properly enjoy his meal. In the silence of the room the creaking and groaning on his chair made him cringe. How far away could Aster’s large ears hear that noise? Where was he? How long would he be alone?

Mindless, he ate as he considered his alone time. Aster really did seem fixated on teaching him concepts of time. To remind him not to forget how many moon rises he had seen, if he had seen the sky without a moon. All things to help measure time since had awoken. How long he had rounded his empty forest before Aster had appeared. Why Aster was so obsessed with that he wasn’t sure, but he accepted it. 

Though to be fair it was starting to blur to him. He wasn’t learning to count his days fast enough for Aster’s liking. Or to himself it seemed. The sense of urgency and itch under his skin grew day by day, like he was forgetting to do something beyond his understanding. Aster called it magic. Just like when he whispered his name into his ear. It helped him sleep at night to feel that odd sensation. This magic he told him about was everything Jack wanted. It gave pause to his latent desperation.

He needed it now. He frowned, looking down at his empty bowl. Damn he couldn’t even remember the taste of the food. Just like he could not stop shaking his leg and tapping at the table. The need was madness now. He had stopped and thought of it too long. It was threatening to rip out of his skin and escape him. He looked around desperately. Aster wasn’t here, he wouldn’t find out, it would be okay wouldn’t it?

He chewed on his lip, looking down at his trembling hands. Yes there was something seriously wrong with him and the sooner his amnesia lifted the sooner he would understand what it was. His arms snapped, bringing his hands under the table. With a power he knew he didn’t normally possess he lifted the table easily, the bowl sliding across the surface and off the other end as he gave a jerk. The table flew into the air, the itch firing out of his fingertips in wisps of white.

Startled, he watched in confusion as the white spread. Caught the table mid-launch into the air and held it in place. The white spread fast and loud, cracking as the air in the room grew cold even through his clothes. The moment was over just as quick as it began, the table frozen in place by ice.

“Ice….” He muttered the new-old word, admiring the work of art. Ice stretched from the floor to the ceiling holding the half flipped table in place. He turned around his work, surprised to see it had even saved the clay bowl from hitting the floor. The ice had raced across the table top, shot out into the open air, and had caught the bowl before it had hit the floor.

So his desperation and his itch had a name.

He needed to ice with a passion. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew that for now he had been sated, but he would need to spread this ice again soon. If he didn’t, surely he’d coat Aster’s home in it.

“Well, I guess there is no way I’m cleaning this up in time.” He muttered, sitting on the floor to admire it. It really was breath taking the way the glow flowers reflected light off his creation. Maybe this was like Aster’s name and magic, bringing his physical calm and joy seemingly from nothing.

In silence he sat and tried to count the days since he had woken up. He needed something positive to tell Aster when he got home and saw the mess he had made.

 


	3. A skill like none other.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack learns how to fly and Aster learns how to worry more.

“Again.” Aster barked, watching Jack dance around. Fear pulse in his veins, this by all accounts, was a terrible idea. The boy kicked his feet back, put all his weight on his staff and managed to suspend himself for a moment in the air. He watched with all his senses, trying to find any trace of magic. With the ice it was easy, the stuff left a trail. But Jack had also proven to be a talented Wind Mage. Hanging in the air only long enough for a draft to catch him and sling him in an arc around his staff.

“Again,” He repeated. He saw Jack sigh but ignored his boredom. This time the boy merely jumped up into the air. He saw it then, the lack of fall through. Jack had called on magic without having a clear vision of what he had wanted to do. He felt wisps of it with his Sense. So faint that distance surely would show nothing. He darted forward ready to catch the idiot if he fell.

With a shout Jack was launched into the air. Perhaps not as talented as Aster had first believed as it was clear the guardian was going to hit the floor faster than he had left it. “Jack!” He called out, knowing nothing would help him now. He couldn’t work his magic fast enough, and as he saw the boy flail in the air, he was sure the fall would hurt.

The small traces of magic he had felt were gone and Jack’s upward trajectory reversed and the boy started falling. He’d be sure to yell at him after this, if he didn’t break beyond sense. He looked up helpless as the boy suddenly shot off away from him as though he had been snatched midair by a bird of prey.

Ears pressing back to his head he watched in shock as Jack seemed to get a grip on his wind magic. Untraceable as before and began to play in the air. In silence he watched as confusion became joy and laughter rained down on him.

What kind of Guardian had the Man in the Moon sent them? A Wind and Ice Mage with the power to move untraceably, a gift no other guardian had ever had, a gift even he, one of the oldest had never been able to master. They would magic discreetly, carefully in such a way that other magics and the natural magics of the world would shield them. But Jack was flying without a single sign of his magics at work. And the boy certainly didn’t have the finesse with magic that he did.

Even his ice was as untraceable. During his casting, and even after he had finished his work his ice seemed like normal ice. The only time Aster had been able to trace his magic was when he spoke his name and  wanted Aster to feel his magic. It was an increasingly unsettling fear as he watched Jack turn into a small figure in the air. The boy could leave him and he would not be able to find him. Pitch could snatch away his hope for change in the tide of this battle, and there would be nothing he could do to stop him.

But Jack returned, landing more gracefully than he had taken off. Aster attempted to mirror the tooth smile Jack gave him. The ever present fear that he would lose Jack keeping him from telling him that he was gifted, that no matter what he would be safe. He walked up to him and patted his paw on his shoulder, forcing the grin to stay on his face. “That was amazing Jack.”

Jack beamed back at him, staring right into his eyes, clearly so very happy at his achievement with his magic. How could the boy understand that his joy was the opposite for him. Aster let Jack hug him. He would keep the boy safe even if it meant that jack would never forgive him. It would be worth it. 


End file.
